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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240419">September Prompts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Good Friend, Cognitive Distortions, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Being an Idiot, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Logic | Logan Sanders Is A Good Friend, Logic | Logan Sanders is a Sweetheart, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Other, Outer Space, Roommates, Self-Worth Issues, Space Flight, katywritesbooks, only a bit, september writing challenge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:28:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I gave up on this very early and deleted parts of it. Here's whats left.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day Two: Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Virgil notes the rain and has a chat with his roommate.<br/>WARNINGS: Mentions of overwearing binders, being soaked? vaguely mentioned reference to dark events in history</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Virgil’s desk is right next to the window. He doesn’t quite remember why he thought choosing this desk was a good idea, considering that he constantly gets distracted by the goings-on outside. It doesn’t face the campus, but the street, so Virgil sees both foot and car traffic going by. Currently, there isn’t much foot traffic, as it is pouring. With a small smile, he is thankful that he had already grabbed lunch before the downpour picked up. Sure, his cardboard-esque containers had marks of wetness from the rain, but his food was fine. Logan had come back from class a half-hour after Virgil got back to the room, and they had to rush to spread out their books and notebooks on their makeshift drying rack. Virgil had helped, of course, after laughing at his friend who was currently dripping water onto the carpet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You only have the towel you used to shower, right?” Logan nods, scowling at Virgil as he chokes back more laughter. “Here. I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>I thought I needed a beach towel an hour away from the coast, but it’s big and fluffy, probably warm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Logan mutters, toweling off their hair before wrapping themself tightly. “But you’re an asshole sometimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, thanks, L,” Virgil smiles a shit-eating grin before walking to the kettle on top of the micro-fridge. “Want some tea? Earl grey, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Logan nods eagerly and within seconds a mug of hot water and a teabag are in their hands. “I’ll change now, turn away. Also, take off your binder, I know you slept in it.” Logan cuts off Virgil’s complaint before he can say it. “If you do, you can use the weighted blanket.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Virgil nods, scowling. “Fine. I guess. But you have to listen to the new episode of Lore with me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do love Menke’s descriptions of historical events. Do you know what it’s about?” Logan perks up the mention of the podcast that appeals to both of them with its look into the darker sides of history.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No clue,” Virgil shrugs. “We’re just gonna have to listen and find out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Less than five minutes later, the two roommates are each lying on their bed as the podcast begins to play from Virgil’s computer. In the background, there is nothing but the sound of rain on the roof, and Virgil is filled with a sense of tranquility.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I decided it would be best to attach a fandom to this so that people read this. If you read chapter two and want to comment, tbh I'd appreciate comments on chapter one more bc I don't post original work much. I want to know that someone got something from it. Then again, you guys don't owe me anything, so do whatever you want</p><p>I think Virgil and Logan would be great roommates. They are both quiet and considerate of those around them, even if they do not quite know what to do or say in general. Patton would be a close second, but I don't know if I'd want his bubbly positivity 24/7, considering I'm fairly low energy while Patton is bursting with energy. Otherwise, we'd bond. Remus would be too chaotic and I personally don't want slime or fake blood on my personal belongings. Janus would be a cool friend but I wouldn't appreciate his loose relationship with the truth or his philosophy thoughts that make me question my worldview all the time. Roman would also be a cool friend, but tbh I don't 100% know what to do around people who hide their insecurities with and act cocky. I also don't like being around people when they are acting overly cocky. any thoughts?</p><p>Also, the most unrealistic part about this is that a dorm can be quiet. It's actually relatively quiet now, but my neighbors make noise past midnight.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day Two: Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A sci-fi short about what was left behind and holding onto who you have lost. It takes place on an ark-like spaceship almost at a replacement Earth.<br/>WARNINGS: Discussions of loss and isolation, discussed character death, mentioned cryosleep and what that entails</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You look out the window of the ship from across the room, legs swinging from your perch on the shut-down cryo-pod. You aren’t uncomfortable just because you happen to be sitting on the pod which, just last week, held your body suspended in time. Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. Any discomfort is worth it, you decide, this is probably one of the only empty rooms with a view outside. When you really think about it though, this isn’t even a room, but a long corridor that stretches at least a mile. Lining one wall are the chambers, somewhere over five hundred, stacked in groups of three. </p><p>You’re actually pretty grateful for once to have a Z last name, you got the last pod and actually have room to sit upon it. Originally above your pod was a variety of supplies and rations in case the doors got jammed or something, which took up the space of two pods. That was removed by the crew quickly after you woke up, shivering with frost melting on your eyelashes and visible breath. Overall, not the worst way to wake up, you had two younger siblings who would find new and horrible ways to prank you awake when you were young. You give yourself a moment to reminisce, before snapping your thoughts back to the present.</p><p>“Thinking about Earth again?” Your friend jabs playfully after pushing the door ajar and creeping in the room.</p><p>“Yeah,” You move your arm to pat the spot next to you. Your friend obliges and jumps up. You don’t bother tearing your gaze away from the window. “We left a lot behind.”</p><p>Your friend nods in agreement. They especially know what you mean, they had to leave their romantic partner to claim this spot. They almost decided to cancel going until you reminded them that they would either die on Earth or get a second chance here. Or, almost here. They were days away from the planet creatively named Earth-Two, armed with scientists, engineers, and people that can carry on human culture as it is on Earth. Was. The Earth is long gone by this point, hollowed out in a capitalistic pursuit of owning more. So the UN selected some of the best and brightest, along with some randomly selected individuals to go and do the same somewhere else that could support human life. You got in through your ‘contributions to modern art’, which just means you had a large enough internet following on your art blog to call you popular. Your friend, on the other side of the globe, managed to get in with their survivalist skills, they participated in a largescale survival simulation and made it into the top fifty. It was mostly by pure luck, but you’ll ignore that if it means you aren’t alone on this ship. </p><p>“Here, take these,” They hand you a pair of sunglasses. “We’ll need these in rooms with windows until they put up all the UV Protection screens. “Why they didn’t do this earlier, I can’t tell you, but it’s how it’s going.”</p><p>You slide the sunglasses on. They remind you of solar eclipse glasses, but you can still see your friend’s outline. “Thanks, how close are we?”</p><p>“Maybe tomorrow, but then we need to stay in orbit, the scouting team including yours truly will go down and investigate, whatever.”</p><p>“How are you feeling?” You nudge them with your shoulder. You know they’re terrified of being on the front lines of this expedition, but it’s nice to ask.</p><p>“Just peachy!” They snark, before growing somber. “I’ve been thinking… If I don’t make it…”</p><p>“Don’t talk like that, you’ll be armed and wearing protective gear.” You too have been fearing this. “Plus, if you die, I’ll come down there and murder you.”</p><p>“Gee, thanks, at least I have some motivation now.” They smile. You smile back. How many more times will you get to see their smile? “Look! The sun! Or star? Our star!”</p><p>You tilt your head, gasping. It looks just like the Sun. You’re hit by a warmth that feels so recent yet is so distant. The warmth chases away all the darkness in your mind, and you allow yourself a moment to bask in the light. You wrap an arm around your friend as if one gesture can tie the two of you together. The two of you sit together for a moment, drinking in the sun and the company for as long as you can.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So far so good. I don't think I'll actually spend much time or do much research on these. Nobody will even see this until I add a fandom, so why do I care?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day Three: Anniversary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Logan is acting differently today. A good different, but still different. If only Roman would just ask Logan directly, but oh well. This is probably 95% fluff.<br/>WARNINGS: Food, very minor spiraling thoughts, misunderstandings</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Roman wakes up to the scent of breakfast wafting up the stairs, which was to be expected. His fiance Logan made breakfast, Roman himself made dinner, and they each get lunch or prepare it for themselves for work. What’s different about today is the scent of cheese, eggs, and spinach, mixing together in a way that makes Roman’s mouth water and stomach growl. Logan must be making his favorite, a souffle. Roman gets up, quickly grabbing a blouse and checking for wrinkles. Deciding it’s ok, he pulls it over his head, grabs his pants, and hops towards the door as each leg goes in. Barreling out the door, Roman can’t help but grin as he heads to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There stands Logan, opening the oven and taking out a beautifully made souffle. As soon as the souffle is on the counter, Roman taps Logan’s arm. Logan looks over, smiling fondly, and they share a chaste kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, my beautiful almost-husband!” Roman declares loudly, beaming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, babe,” Roman adores the way Logan’s eyes crinkle when he smiles genuinely. “There’s fruit salad in the fridge and toast on the table, can you grab the fruit salad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman nods. “Of course, mi Amor,” Roman pauses, looking back. “Coffee for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Logan responds by pointing his head to a steaming mug on the counter, near the souffle. “I’m good, but thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite how wonderful the breakfast was, Roman couldn’t help but frown. Today was an average day, why put so much prep into a meal that was usually a quick affair before the two went off to work? But, before he can ask Logan, he realizes that he’s running late for work. “Got to go, love you, babe!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too,” Logan responds, already starting to pick up the dishes. “I hope the auditions go well today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ihopesotoothanksbye!” Roman fits in before the door closes behind him and he’s off to the high school.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman groans in the teachers’ lounge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Forget your lunch again?” Dr. Emile Piccani, the school psychologist, asks from across the room, looking up from his book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! My fiance set up a really nice breakfast! I didn’t even remember to pack one for myself,” Roman dramatically flops onto the couch. “Now I’m going to starve!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not just get lunch from the caf?” Emile carefully ignores his colleague’s dramatic gestures by moving off the couch to the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman shoots Emile a look. “Me? Go out into that jungle? On a day that I’m not a lunch monitor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emile thinks for a moment then nods. “Fair point. Want half of my peanutbutter-jelly-and-banana sandwich?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman’s nose scrunches up. “I’m kind of allergic to bananas.” Before Roman can continue his lamentation, his phone buzzes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lolo:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I am at your school right now. Want to let me in? Or come out and we can picnic?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My prayers have been answered!” Roman exclaims. “Thank G_d!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emile rolls his eyes. “I don’t think I want to know, just leave me out of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Romano:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Go 2 door by theater, will let u in :)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minutes later, Roman quickly leads Logan into the theater and the two sit on the edge of the stage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw that you forgot a lunch, so I decided to surprise you. Your favorite, black bean burrito from Antonio’s,” Logan explains, running a hand over Roman’s arm and lightly touching his tattoo of the logo of the local restaurant. “I didn’t have class and I knew you were on lunch break.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And here I was thinking I was the one who did all the sweeping romantic gestures!” Roman is about to ask why before the door creaks open. One of his students, a sophomore by the name of Patton peeks in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Sanders? I was just wondering when-” Patton’s eyes widen as he sees Logan. “I didn’t realize you were busy, I’ll come back-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Patton, it’s ok, this is my fiance, Logan.” Logan nods and waves awkwardly. “What would you like to ask? Unless you want to ask in private? If so, Lo will step out.” Logan nods in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, I was just wondering when the stage crew auditions are? For the friend I told you about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes,” Roman muses, “The friend who wants to be in theater but is too shy to be on stage. Let him (he waits for a nod from Patton to confirm the pronouns) know that they will take place the day after acting auditions. Those are today and tomorrow. So… Thursday!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much, Mr. Sanders!” Patton waves. “And it was nice to meet you, Logan! Roman talks about you so much, it’s nice to put a face to the name!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Patton is gone. “Oh, do you now?” Logan smirks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman, to his surprise, blushes. “Well, why </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> I take every opportunity I can get to talk about my amazing partner?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Before Patton came in you were going to say something?” Logan prompts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman blanks. “Completely forgot.” He smacks his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No problem, I should get going,” Logan says, pressing a kiss to Roman’s forehead. “You have class in five minutes, and I need to get back to campus for my office hours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you, darling,” Roman waves as Logan exits the auditorium. If only he could remember what he wanted to say!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman gets home late, after the first round of auditions, completely exhausted. He groans to himself as he opens the door, ready to make dinner, but he completely freezes. The table is set, a few side dishes laid out. The centerpiece is an ornate porcelain pan that Roman recognizes immediately as his mom’s. “Logan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Logan pops out of the kitchen. “Yes, darling?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you get my mom’s serving dish?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She gave it to me when she gave me the mac and cheese.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what? You got Mom’s mac and cheese?” Roman doesn’t know how to react, his mother’s mac and cheese is his comfort food and Logan went out to his childhood home to get it! A thought strikes him. “Logan, my parents live an hour away.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that is true,” Logan says like the fact means nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You drove two hours for a thing of mac and cheese?” Roman is gaping at this point. Why would </span>
  <em>
    <span>Logan</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all people do something so illogical?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was nothing. I know how much this specific recipe means to you, and I did not want to risk, for lack of a better term, bastardizing it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, what happened?” Roman demands. “Did you do something and are setting up an apology? Did someone die and you’re softening up the blow? You spent hours prepping breakfast, drove to my favorite restaurant for lunch, and drove hours to get dinner. What, did I forget our anniversary or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Technically.” Logan grimaces. “I am sorry to have upset you so. I wanted to make our first year affianced special, so I decided to celebrate the 10 year anniversary of the day we met. Remember?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, though I have no idea how you remember the exact date,” Roman gives a shy grin. “It all started when I saw a cute boy in a coffee shop on campus. I tried everything to woo you, but nothing worked…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eventually, we both joined debate club. My debate skill was rivaled by your raw passion,” Logan finishes, closing the distance and grasping Roman’s hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roman leans in towards Logan. “Eventually, however, we got talking, and outside of our debate topics, we had a lot in common. We became friends quickly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And one thing led to another…” Logan murmurs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To the point where I asked you out,” Roman finishes. “Then the point where I got down on one knee and popped the question.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Today, ten years ago, all of this started,” Logan grins broadly before becoming a bit more somber. “I wanted to do some big gesture like you always do for me. I wanted to make you feel special like you do every day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you do!” Roman laughs. “Every day I wake up next to you, I am filled with warmth! Every time you smile at me my heart sings! Knowing you makes me the luckiest man alive! I should write that down, but- later.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan is blushing fiercely. “For now, how about dinner? Then we can reminisce more?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got it, Specs!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two walk hand in hand to the table, each grateful for the ten years they have spent together.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Roman being a theater teacher that likes burritos was a reference to my freshman year English teacher. My classmates found his slam poetry and there was this one downright sexual one about eating a burrito. Also, yes, he does have a tattoo of a burrito place from his hometown on his arm.</p><p>Also, me, not writing Virgil? Me writing from Roman's perspective? What is this? Did I write Roman well?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day Four: Lies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patton really needs a therapist.<br/>WARNINGS: a fuck-ton of cognitive distortions, feelings of inadequacy, feelings of worthlessness, unhealthy view of self-worth, unreliable narrator</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton sighs, sinking down into his beanbag chair. He had just used the vent channel of the Discord and dumped a little too much out. Now people were scrambling to try and help him, ask him if he’s ok, sympathizing, one even offered to bring him tea. This was why he didn’t vent to his friends. He was using them, forcing them to care for him and listen through his bullshit problems. He was supposed to help them! What was he doing, weighing down the whole mood?</p><p>He always did this. During a lesson, as soon as he had begun to prove how good of an addition to the group he was, he messed up a problem! Now the professor looks down on him, his classmates do too. Nobody will say it, but he knows. A bit after his supervisor complimented how well he was doing, he froze and didn’t know what to do to help a customer. He let his coworkers down, and they needed to cover up for his mistake. And now this. This was the third time he had vented since the chat had been created. He was just taking up space, not adding anything in return.</p><p>If he wasn’t adding to a group, why should he be there? That’s how Patton sees it. Except for in his room, when he’s alone with the door closed, he can let it all out as long as he isn’t too loud, because who is he to disturb his family? As long as his pity party is quiet, it can continue. Pity Party, his brain reminds him, Because you can’t keep it together and are just feeling sorry for yourself. </p><p>Just as he begins to tear up, he feels a poke at his side. It’s a card that his friend Logan had given to him, still in the envelope. Patton carefully peels it open, pulling out a postcard, with purple writing and a picture of a lilac. </p><p>‘Do not always believe everything you think’: the first line reads, followed by: ‘Thoughts and feelings are not decisions or actions.’ On the back, Logan’s scrawl is barely legible, but Patton can make out the words: ‘Your feelings are valid, but sometimes the thoughts behind them aren’t true. I noticed you feel guilt and take that as a sign you have done something wrong.’</p><p>It’s a sweet sentiment… maybe… Patton pulls 0ut his phone, scrolling to the right contact and pressing ‘call’.</p><p>“Hello, Patton Sanders calling, I’d like to schedule an appointment with a therapist?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>is this based on my feelings but ramped up to 11? M A Y B E ....</p><p>My therapist said that the term self-worth is flawed. It implies that you can quantify what makes a single human life valuable. </p><p>I was always the role-model smart kid, and I guess it became a part of who I am. for half a year I thought a teacher hated me because I didn't do well the first few assignments. i felt like a burden today because I used the vent channel on a discord server.</p><p>I need to learn that sometimes its ok to just take up space. you can't constantly give. it's ok to ask for something if the person is willing to do it for you.</p><p>ALSO I started this at 11:00 so there</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wanted a warmup for October because I want to do both Goretober and Whumptober. Found this on Tumblr by @Katywritesbooks so check that out for the prompts list or whatever.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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